Dreams Don't Turn To Dust
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Two one-shots exploring the characters of Napstablook and Mettaton, and their unexpected connection - one for the True Pacifist ending and their life beyond it, and one for the No Mercy ending, in which one sets out to avenge the other. SPOILERS for both endings.
1. Pacifist

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: A couple of ideas that wouldn't leave me after I unlocked the house beside Napstablook's and discovered their connection to Mettaton. Both these characters are favorites of mine, so I couldn't resist writing a couple of one-shots about them - one for the best ending of the game, and one for the worst. Naturally, SPOILERS FOR BOTH ENDINGS. Proceed with caution._

 _I've never written a gender-neutral character before, so this was a challenge. Hopefully I did okay. And even though Napstablook's a ghost, he does physically block your way at one point in the game and seems able to manipulate his surroundings, so I've chosen to interpret that as him being able to become tangible and intangible at will._

* * *

Sunlight.

To some of the Underground's creatures, sunlight was the stuff of fairy tales, a concept they knew about on an academic level but had never seen. Others could recall a time when they had seen its glow, felt its warmth on skin or hide or scales, but it had been so long since any of them had seen the surface that they had forgotten most of the experience. And many had long given up hope that they would ever see or feel it again… until now.

The barrier was shattered. An era of darkness and despair had drawn to a close, and a new era of hope and light had begun.

The moment the news broke that the way had been opened for monsterkind to return to the surface, MTT Resort had burst into a flurry of activity. Guests abandoned their rooms in droves, clogging the corridors and the sole elevator that led to the capitol and its tunnel to the outside world. Employees dropped whatever they had been doing and left their stations, leaving food unprepared and beds unmade in their haste – not that there were any customers left to complain about the poor service. Catty and Bratty, the back-alley junk peddlers that hotel security could never seem to oust from their "shop" behind the building, had actually come inside for once, and gushed to everyone who would stop and listen that they were "so hyped for freedom, like, oh my God!" Even Burgerpants had managed to drop his cynical snark long enough to speak of a brighter future, if only because he hoped life on the surface would mean he'd never have to see his boss again.

For a brief, silly moment, Mettaton wished he had stayed behind at the resort to celebrate the destruction of the barrier with his employees. He had always tried to maintain a courteous relationship with most of them, as he'd found they tended to work better and with more enthusiasm if given frequent encouragement and kindness. True, a few of them would always be antagonistic toward him, such as Burgerpants (whose real name he'd never really bothered to learn), but ah well, you couldn't win them all over. He pondered going back, putting off his errand in order to spend a few final minutes with his staff before they parted ways…

But he shook that fanciful thought off with a toss of his head, a toss carefully calculated to throw his glossy mane of synthetic hair back in the most artful way. Enough of that. He hadn't plotted and schemed for so long to reach the surface in order to wallow in silly sentimentalities. And even if it had been the human child's actions, rather than his own planning, that had finally breached the barrier, he had no intention of letting his dreams go to waste. No… he had bigger fish to fry. So to speak.

The robotic star of the Underground stood before a pair of small houses in the heart of Waterfall, each the mirror image of the other in everything save color – one a pale blue, the other a vibrant pink. It had been so long since he'd paid this place a visit, so long since he and his family had parted ways here… one moving on to follow their dreams, the other staying behind…

" _A… a body? You're going corporeal?"_

" _Alphys showed me the plans, Blooky. It's marvelous! Better than I could have possibly imagined! Isn't this exciting? …Blooky, why aren't you smiling?"_

" _It's just… well… I thought you'd never go corporeal…"_

" _That was then, darling. But this is now. This is my big chance, Blooky… I'd be an idiot to pass this up…"_

" _But you said you'd never leave me behind…"_

" _Sorry, Blooky… but my dreams can't wait for anyone…"_

He shook his head, somewhat less artfully this time, and raised his hand to knock on the door of the blue house. There was no answer… but the sound of distorted, electronic music behind the door told him that Napstablook was home, just too deeply immersed in their work to hear the door. Mettaton couldn't help a fond laugh. If he knew his cousin, the ghost had been so engrossed in their music that they had missed the breaking of the barrier and its ensuing drama entirely.

He knocked again, and this time a faint "oh, I'm coming" was his reward. The door handle rattled a moment, then the door swung open, creaking on ancient, rusted hinges.

Mettaton had no physical heart, only a battery core and a specialized chamber to contain his SOUL… but something inside him still seemed to jolt in response to seeing Napstablook before him. For the second time in as many days he found his usual gift of words failing him. He, with the golden voice and the flamboyant, outspoken personality, couldn't seem to find the right words for his own cousin.

"Oh… hi Mettaton." Napstablook opened the door wider. "Come in, if you want. If you don't want… that's okay too. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me, Blooky," Mettaton said at last, and he stepped inside.

Napstablook's house was just as drab and plain as he remembered it – peeling paint, crumbling plaster, broken floorboards, cobwebs matting the corners and fixtures in ever-growing layers of gray. An ancient, dusty television flickered on one wall, displaying a test screen – there would be no more programs in the Underground after today – and an even more ancient refrigerator groaned and rumbled in one corner. The computer setup in one corner was the only area that didn't look utterly decrepit – indeed, it looked top-of-the-line and seemed to be kept meticulously clean, if only because dust and outdated hardware did a remix artist no favors.

Napstablook drifted to the center of the room and turned to face the robot. They looked just as Mettaton remembered them – an apparition that looked as if someone had draped a tattered bed sheet over a hovering creature and cut out holes for its eyes and mouth. In the darkness of the Underground Napstablook had always shone with a cool white light, as if lit from within, but here in the brighter light of their home they looked frail and ethereal, light enough for a brisk wind to blow them away. Only the bulky headphones framing their head gave them any appearance of actual substance.

"So… it's been awhile," Napstablook said at last.

Mettaton nodded. "I tried to call you before I came… you didn't answer your phone, though."

"Oh… I thought it was just telemarketers." Napstablook's entire body rippled in a shrug. "Nobody else ever seems to call, so… I just assumed, I suppose. Sorry…"

"No… don't be sorry. You have no need to be sorry." He reached out to gently pat Napstablook in the general vicinity of their shoulder. "I came to talk to you. You know the barrier is down, right?"

Napstablook blinked, registering surprise for the first time since Mettaton could remember. "It is? Oh… is that what that bright flash was about?"

Mettaton nodded. "No one is sure how it happened… but when the human child faced Asgore, it somehow destroyed the barrier. Blooky… we're free. Free to return to the surface."

"…oh."

"Oh? Is that all you can say?" He laughed incredulously. "This is the greatest news of our lives!"

"I guess," Napstablook replied, his voice weak and unsure. "It's just what you always wanted, isn't it? A way to get to the human world."

Mettaton nodded.

"What are you gonna do now?"

"Go make a name for myself in the human world, of course. Find my place among humanity's stars and idols. I know they have their big names already, but surely there must be a place amid their shining galaxy of stars for a robot to carve out a niche for himself." He allowed himself a smirk. "At least I have one thing human stars don't – MY exquisite good looks won't fade with age, or require expensive surgeries to keep up. Nothing will dim THIS star."

"Ah… that's true." Napstablook's gaze tilted down to the floor. "I hope it's not hard."

Mettaton shrugged. "I've been preparing for this day for years. Publicity pictures, audition tapes, everything I could need. Now it's just a matter of finding an agent, which I can't imagine will be too difficult. It will mean making a journey to that fabled land humans call 'Hollywood,' however… I'm not sure of the precise location, but perhaps the human can be of service there."

Napstablook nodded. "I'm happy for you, Mettaton. I really am."

Awkward silence. The ghost bobbed gently up and down, seemingly content with the lapse in conversation, while Mettaton dug the toe of one boot into the floorboards. Curses… after years of silence between the two of them, why was this sudden pause in conversation proving so uncomfortable?

"Well… I'll let you go," Napstablook said at last, drifting back toward his computer. "Y-You've got big plans, and I wouldn't want to get in the way of them…"

"Wait!" Mettaton stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Blooky, please, you could never be in the way."

Napstablook ripple-shrugged again. "You always said your dreams wouldn't wait for anybody."

There wasn't an iota of bitterness in Napstablook's tone – he sounded resigned, but not sarcastic or resentful – but Mettaton flinched anyhow. He'd said those exact words years ago, when he'd announced he was leaving the Blook family farm to gain a corporeal body and a chance at stardom…

"It's okay," Napstablook said, breaking him out of his thoughts again. "I… I understand. I'd just have gotten in your way… nobody wants a ghost hanging around as baggage, weighing them down. Even if ghosts don't really weigh anything." They sighed softly. "You'd better go. Don't want to be in your way."

The complete resignation in their tone was enough to drive a crack in his steel heart. His cousin had always been a glum sort, low on self-esteem and easily driven to depression… but this was a new low even for them. Had he, Mettaton, the mech committed to bringing a smile to everyone he could, managed to do this to his own family? Had the brightest star in the Underground managed to leave the one who should have been closest to him in the darkest shadow of all?

"Blooky… I didn't come here to say goodbye. I came here to make you an offer. Come with me."

Napstablook had begun to immerse themselves in their work again, but they turned back at that. "I'd just weigh you down."

"Now that's a pack of lies if I've ever heard one, darling," he replied. "Has it occurred to you that I might need you on my journey to stardom?"

"Uh… no, not really…"

"Well, I DO need you." He smiled – not his usual proud smirk, but a genuine smile. "Do you know how lonely it gets at the top, Blooky? Yes, I left the farm and got a body because I thought it was my only chance at fulfilling my dreams." He patted his metallic chest with one hand. "I thought the only way to achieve that was to look out for myself, to rely on others only as long as I needed and then leave them behind to forge ahead on my own. Alphys, my employees, even the human child… just tools to get ahead."

"Oh." Napstablook shivered, uncomfortable with this turn of conversation.

"I've found, though…" It was Mettaton's turn to look down at the floor. "I've found that's a very lonely way to live. I became a star, yes… but there was no one to share my victory with. And true, there's a price to pay for every dream… but I found the price to be dearer than I realized."

Napstablook pondered that a moment. "Then why didn't you call? I-I still would've like to hear from you. Did you think you were too good to call home?" Somehow the fact that they spoke without anger or resentment just made his question worse.

"I thought, perhaps, that I had burned my bridges, so to speak," Mettaton replied. "That after breaking my promise to you, leaving you behind… that you wouldn't want to hear from me."

"Oh." They drifted a bit closer. "I wasn't mad or anything. I really liked watching your show. I was sad that you'd left… especially after you said you wouldn't… but whenever I saw you on TV, it made me happy for a little while. Your dream had come true, and I couldn't be mad about that."

A pressure inside his chassis seemed to ease at that. After all this time, Blooky still didn't harbor a grudge. Not that they'd been the type to hang onto anger like that – they'd be far more apt to blame themselves than dredge up enough anger to actively hate someone – but to hear that his cousin held nothing against him was a relief.

"Well, Blooky… it looks like I'm going to have to rebuild my dream from the ground up now," he pointed out. "I'm a star in one world, but it's going to be a long journey toward becoming a star in another world. And this time… this time I'm not breaking a promise. I won't leave you behind… because you're coming with me."

"O-oh, b-b-but… but I'd just be in your way!" Napstablook protested. "It's better if I stay out of it…"

"And just what do you propose to do instead?" Mettaton asked. "Stay Underground with only the snails and flowers for company? How absurd!"

"Well… I… if nothing else…" If it was possible for a ghost to look flustered, Napstablook was managing it.

"The thought of leaving you to molder Underground while the rest of monster-kind seeks their fortunes in the brave new world appalls me, darling." He patted Napstablook's "shoulder" again. "No, you'll be coming with me. If there's room in this world for an entertainment robot, there's room for his ghostly cousin as well. Besides… every great musician needs a songwriter, right?"

It was a rare moment indeed when Napstablook's face lit up with pure joy, and Mettaton relished the moment before it faded away. "I-I-I'm not THAT good… but I can try. Y-you're sure they'll like my music?"

"Please, darling… I can feel it now." He made a sweeping gesture at an imaginary horizon with one hand. "A revolutionary new wave in the humans' music world, led by breakthrough artists Mettaton and Napstablook! Sales of 'spooktunes' albums will break records! Top charts! Go platinum! We'll be the cutting edge of the entertainment world!"

"I have no idea what you just said."

"Then I shall educate you, dear." He lowered his arm. "But please, Blooky, come with me. I left you behind once… I shan't do it again. If I can't pursue my dreams without bringing you along, I won't do it at all. But if I can become a star with you by my side… then by all means let us chase the stars together."

"Aw, shucks." If it was possible for a ghost to blush, Napstablook would have done so right there. "You… you make it sound so exciting. All right… I'll do it."

Mettaton's grin stretched so widely that it threatened to crack his face in two. But he was saved from an embarrassingly emotional moment by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Napstablook? Are you there?"

"Oh… that's the human." Napstablook's gaze moved to the door. "I'm not set up for more than one guest at a time…"

"Then let's meet them outside," Mettaton suggested, and he opened the door and stepped through. Frisk was standing outside the house next door, trying the handle and eyeing the door curiously, but they turned with a start as the robot and ghost emerged.

"Mettaton!" A smile crossed the child's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I could say the same for you, darling," Mettaton laughed. "What brings you here? It's a long way to Waterfall from New Home, after all."

"Toriel suggested I take a walk," Frisk replied. "I couldn't leave here without saying goodbye to all my friends!"

Friends… the word burned in his mind and in his SOUL. It had been so long since he'd had actual friends, he'd almost forgotten what friendship felt like. Well… no better time than the present to mend the bridges with Blooky and Alphys, and perhaps build new ones with Frisk and others.

"The human's really nice," Napstablook remarked. "I… guess we can talk to them a bit, before we go."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Mettaton replied, and he motioned Napstablook out the door before trailing after them… on his way to begin a new life, and a new dream, with his family at his side.


	2. No Mercy

"Blooky! Blooky, are you in there? Napstablook, for God's sake, say something!"

"Uh?" Napstablook let their headphones slide off and turned to face the door, which rattled in its frame from the force of the blows raining on it. Was that Alphys? They hadn't seen the scientist in ages, not since she'd shown up at Mettaton's door with plans for his new robotic body and had whisked him away… leaving them behind, despite all his cousin's promises otherwise…

They shoved that thought aside and drifted toward the door, opening it to admit the short, chunky lizard-monster who served as Asgore's royal scientist. Whatever was happening, it must be serious to drive the reclusive scientist out of her lab and to their door.

"Blooky!" She nearly tumbled headfirst into the shabby, single-room house before regaining her balance.

"Alphys? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, thank God, you're safe!" She threw her arms around them in a relieved hug, sobbing into the thin ectoplasm of their body. "You have to evacuate, there's a human loose in Waterfall and they're killing everything in their path!"

"Oh… but I'm a ghost, Alphys… without a corporeal body, I can't be killed."

"Oh." She blinked once or twice, as if that hadn't occurred to her before. "We'd still feel better if you were someplace safe. Just come with me, don't stop to grab anything on the way…"

"W-we?"

"Yes… Mettaton specifically asked that I take you back to the labs for safety."

"Mettaton? Oh, is he okay?"

"He is for now but… but Blooky… oh, I can't bring myself to say it!"

"Alphys, is Mettaton hurt?"

"No, but… oh, Blooky, he's gone to stop the human himself!"

Napstablook had never thought it was possible for a ghost to go cold, but their entire body seemed to flood with chill at that moment. Despite the broken promise, they still cared about Mettaton, watching his shows religiously and keeping updated on his ventures and exploits as much as they could. And while Mettaton repeatedly assured them that a physical body was everything he could have dreamed of and more, Napstablook had always feared that the inevitable would happen… that he would grow attached enough to his corporeal form to fuse to it permanently.

And if a ghost were fused to that corporeal form, they could be killed. And despite knowing that danger, Mettaton was deliberately putting himself in harm's way.

"Where is he?" Even Napstablook was startled at how dangerous their own voice sounded – no longer a soft murmur, but a harsh rasp.

"Uh… l-last I saw, he w-was heading for the Core. But Blooky-"

They didn't wait to hear her protest – they swooped out the door, leaving Alphys to sputter ineffectually in their wake. They hurtled down the tunnels of the Underground as fast as they could manage, not even bothering to dodge obstacles and simply phasing right through them. Perhaps a single ghost couldn't change the fate of the monster kingdom… but if nothing else, they should be able to talk some sense into Mettaton before the unthinkable happened. They could only hope it wasn't too late.

* * *

There were few things quite as heartbreakingly ugly as a fallen star… or as devastating as seeing the one who should have been a guardian angel brought down with a single blow.

The black-tiled corridor that connected the Core to the capitol, once the chosen arena for Mettaton to head off the murderous human, was spattered with oil and hydraulic fluids. Shards of metal and bits of broken machinery littered the floor, and the electric-burn smell of fried wiring filled the air. The faint whirr of a cooling fan, stuttering on and off, was almost drowned out by the steady trickle of fluid pouring out of a ruptured tank, marking a spreading pool of glossy black against the darker black of the floor.

In the center of the mess lay Mettaton, in his fiercely elegant NEO form… and nearly bisected by a savage strike across the midsection. As if that killing blow hadn't been brutal enough, further injuries marred the once-proud chassis – his wings were crumpled and slashed, his left optic was marred with cracks, and deep dents and scratches marked his paint from chest to boots. His foe hadn't been content with striking a mortal wound, but had beaten him with a bloodthirsty rage before moving on to the capitol.

It took only an instant for Napstablook to take all this in, but that instant felt like an eternity. They hovered a short distance from the leaking chassis, a tremor shaking their frame. What kind of creature could have done this… they had known most monsters were vulnerable to a human with enough killing intent, but this level of savagery seemed neither human nor monstrous, but something far more sinister…

A soft groan interrupted their thoughts, and they drifted to Mettaton's side. The mechanical idol of the Underground managed, with great effort, to lift his head enough to regard Napstablook with a flickering optic.

"B-Blooky?" His voice, normally as glossy and beautiful as the rest of him, was rough and shaky with pain.

"Mettaton!" Napstablook dipped low enough for the substance of their chassis to touch the floor, never minding the oil and other fluids staining the lower edges. "Oh Mettaton… oh no…"

"Blooky," Mettaton repeated, and a pained smile crossed his face. "S-sorry… you have to see me… like this…"

"Don't try to talk," Napstablook urged. "I'm going to call Alphys. If she hurries, maybe she can…"

A gentle touch to their lower body silenced them, and they looked down to see Mettaton's hand resting on them, leaving a smear of black against the eerie white.

"You care about me," Mettaton noted, his voice soft with pain and emotion. "It's… it's very nice… to see that you still care… that I haven't lost you entirely…"

"Don't talk like that!" Napstablook's own voice was stronger than they had ever managed before. "Just hold on! I'll get Alphys, she can fix you up!"

Mettaton chuckled, only for his laughter to dissolve in a fit of coughing as his fans snagged. "It's too late for that, Blooky."

"Don't talk like that!"

"Blooky…" Mettaton's optic dimmed, but he held his smile. "It's… it's okay… I bought her time… time to evacuate the Core…" Another coughing fit. "Perhaps it was foolish… to think I could stand up to a human… even with my upgrades… but… but if I could save one monster… perhaps it was worth it."

Napstablook's eyes burned, tears spilling down their face. "Mettaton… don't leave me… please… don't leave me again…"

Metal fingers tightened in the thin material of his body. "Don't forget me, Blooky… that's all I ask. Don't… don't let the Underground forget me…"

"Mettaton! Don't die on me! Don't, please!"

Too late. His grip relaxed, and his arm fell to his side as his optic finally flickered out. The stuttering whir of fans and hum of electricity fizzled out for good… replaced by the soft hiss of dust as his body disintegrated. His face was the last thing to go… and somehow, his smile remained until the very last moment, the final part of him to crumble away.

"No…"

Napstablook crumpled in a heap at the fallen mech's side, heedless of the oil and fluids soaking into their material. The corridor echoed with quiet sobs, the empty hallway amplifying the sounds until they almost muffled the soft pad of feet as someone slowly approached.

"No…" Alphys' hands flew to her mouth at the sight of the oil-soaked dust that was all that remained of the Underground's star. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she steeled herself and dashed them away with a swipe of her claws before going to Napstablook's side. They twitched once as her hand settled on their back, but their sobs continued unabated.

"I'm sorry, Blooky," she murmured. "I'm so sorry…"

Napstablook curled up tighter.

"Blooky… we have to go. The human could come back at any time." She tried to pull them away, but they chose that moment to go insubstantial, and her hand passed through them. "Blooky please, there's nothing more we can do here."

The sobs stopped as suddenly as if she'd thrown a switch. For a moment she thought that perhaps she'd gotten through to them, and they would come to the labs with her… but their next words, spoken in icy tones, dashed that thought.

"No, Alphys… there's still something I can do."

* * *

Perhaps the human had walked this timeline before. Perhaps this wasn't their first time playing the destroying angel of the Underground, and they had expected a different figure to bar the way to the throne room. Or perhaps they simply found the sight of anyone daring to block their path disconcerting, given the trail of destruction and terror they had left in their wake.

At any rate, the human halted in their tracks in the middle of the grand hallway, frowning, weapon-arm hanging loosely at their side. By all accounts an unremarkable child, with shaggy brown hair and a striped shirt being their only real defining features, they might have looked innocent had it not been for the splashes of red that criss-crossed their face and torso, the death-dust that coated their clothes, the black oil that smeared their shoes. To one who didn't know better, there was no way this could be the terror of the Underground, the Destroying Angel of the prophecy.

The human frowned more deeply, lips parting slightly as if to ask why a ghost barred their way instead of a more substantial foe. But they said nothing.

"Expecting someone else?" Napstablook asked, bobbing gently up and down as if buoyed by invisible waves.

The human didn't reply.

"Nothing to say? Not even after you killed my cousin? I thought not." There was no hesitation this time, no self-depreciation – their voice was little more than an ethereal murmur, yet carried a great deal of steel and heat at the same time.

"You've taken the one thing I loved enough to fight for," they went on. "And maybe the rest of the Underground's scared enough of you to run and hide. But I'm not… because we both know you can't kill a ghost, right?"

Silence. Fingers tightened around the weapon.

"It's time for a rematch," Napstablook went on. "And this time I'm not lowering my HP to be polite. Someone has to stop you… and it looks like I'm the only one in the Underground who can." The eldritch glow of their body seemed to brighten, as if drawing strength from their own determination. "Take another step… and you're going to have a bad time."

The human raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah… you heard that line before, right?" A rare chuckle escaped them. "I had a good long talk with Sans before you got here. He told me things. Things about you. About determination." Their eyes flashed. "About the resets."

No answer. Human and ghost shared a long, silent gaze that nonetheless spoke volumes, each knowing what sort of stalemate they were locked in… and accepting it nonetheless.

Then the human drew a deep breath, and took one step forward.

"Go right ahead," Napstablook murmured. "You can fight me… but you'll never win. And if you reset… I'll be here. Every time. And you'll have no one to fight but me." They tensed, ready to dodge the first strike. "Forever."


End file.
